


You're the Ones that We Want

by dogpoet



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Ears, Humor, M/M, Musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-17
Updated: 2009-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk often thought with his dick, a fact that nettled his ears. Drastic measures were called for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the Ones that We Want

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to Disney, the casts of _Grease_ and _Little Shop of Horrors_, and the members of ZZ Top.

Jim Kirk often thought with his dick, a fact that nettled his ears. They usually ended up in bed with women whose high-pitched moans were an affront to delicate cochlea, women whose ears were, to be honest, utterly ordinary – sometimes curled and pinkish, sometimes green (like when Jim had talked Gaila out of her clothes), but still unremarkable. Uhura would have been a catch, with her sensitive hearing that could distinguish among the Romulan dialects, but the chances of her doing the naked pretzel with Jim were slim to none, the ears had to admit, even when Jim would not.

It wasn't as if they didn't enjoy being licked or kissed, or even bitten. They did. But they needed more.

Upon first meeting Spock, they hadn't really noticed his ears. Well, they weren't _blind_ – they had noticed that he was a Vulcan, and that his ears came to delicate points, instead of curving around in the human fashion. But there was not much time, either then or during the ensuing mission, to think about sex. There was only that moment on the bridge when Spock had tried to strangle Jim, his ears flushed green and trembling with fury. Jim's ears had spent many nights recalling that vision, the violent eroticism of it, how out of control Spock's ears had been, so overtaken with emotion that they could not hear the cries of the crew. There was also the brief interlude on Delta Vega, when the elder Spock had melded with Jim, and while the two men were occupied, Jim's ears had called out to Spock's. Spock's ears had gazed back with familiar longing, unable to form words. Then the meld was over, and more urgent matters took priority.

Once the five year mission had begun, however, there was plenty of downtime in which Jim's ears could contemplate the newfound objects of their desire. They could exert a small amount of control over Jim, causing mild itching sensations or ghosts of noise to make him turn in the Captain's chair to look at Spock. These hints did not yield satisfactory results, and Jim's ears were forced to escalate their efforts.

_Psst!_ they hissed on the bridge.

Spock lifted his gaze from his monitor, and turned slightly, listening.

_You're so nice!_ Jim's ears called out, unused to doing their own wooing, and slightly unsure of how to proceed. They doubted Jim's usual M.O. would work.

Spock's ears, framed by smooth, dark hair, trembled, and took on a faint green hue. They were elegant as cathedrals, and just as silent. Spock turned back to his work.

Later, in the corridor, Jim and Spock approached each other, heading toward different destinations.

_We're round and pink!_ Jim's ears shouted as Spock passed by, hoping to attract his ears with their difference. _Like beautiful shells!_

Spock halted for a split second, his stride faltering, but then he continued on. His ears glanced back, but did not answer. Jim prodded at one ear with his finger, as if it itched.

Jim's ears sighed. Maybe they were going about this thing the wrong way. Neither Jim nor Spock were cooperating. It sucked not to have mobility.

The next day, in the mess, Spock sat across from Jim. Perhaps subtly guided there by his ears! Jim's ears hoped. But as the meal progressed, there was no hint that Jim would flirt in his usual way. It was all ship's business between him and Spock despite the elder Spock's claims of a legendary friendship. Jim's ears burned with need. Desperate times called for desperate measures. What did ears love most if not music? Struck with inspiration, Jim's ears tried something new.

_I got chills_, they softly sang, putting as much sexy as they could into the words without coming on too strong. _They're multiplyin'._

Spock studied Jim with a strange expression on his face. Vulcans had sensitive hearing, and Jim's ears knew the objects of their desire had perceived the barely breathed song.

_And I'm losin' control 'cause the power you're supplyin', it's electrifyin'!_ Jim's ears conveyed every bit of emotion they could, wondering if that was even the correct strategy with a stoic Vulcan.

Apparently it was.

_You're the ones that we want..._ Spock's ears whispered hesitantly, keeping the melody.

But then the moment was interrupted. Spock stood. "I apologize, Captain. It seems I am in need of a consultation with Dr. McCoy."

_No!_ Jim's ears cried out, but Spock had already abandoned his tray, and was walking away.

"What the hell is going on?" Jim muttered, half to himself, rubbing at his ears and staring after Spock's retreating form.

That night found Jim pacing outside of Spock's quarters. His ears weren't sure exactly what was going on in Jim's mind, but they weren't ones to pass up an opportunity. After all, Jim was highly suggestible when it came to getting songs stuck in his head. He already seemed preoccupied, which meant he could be made to sing without realizing what he was doing.

His ears began to mark out the rhythm of the song, mimicking the guitars. Jim's hands began to tap in time against the leg of his pants, and he began to bounce to the beat in his head. There might have been some vague air guitar moves.

"He's got ears, and he knows how to use them," Jim sang absentmindedly.

Spock's door opened. Jim came to a dead stop.

Spock looked first one way, and then the other, examining the length of the corridor. "Captain, may I inquire as to what you are doing outside my quarters?"

"Uhh..." Jim said stupidly.

_Would you get behind them if only you could find them? He's my baby_, his ears sang, perhaps more loudly than they should have.

Jim mashed a hand against his left ear. Hard. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Spock asked, focussed on Jim's face.

"Sickbay," Jim said. "I think I need sickbay." He turned on his heel, and headed toward the turbolift.

In silence, Spock watched Jim disappear around the bend in the corridor.

Jim's ears looked back, yearning, and thought they saw the slightest movement of the graceful points beside Spock's face.

In sickbay, McCoy peered into Jim's ears with his light. "I don't know Jim. They look fine to me. If you're hearing things, I think that's up here." He tapped his temple. "Not in your ears. Something I should know about? Are you sleeping okay?"

Jim sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. If he knew what was going on, he wasn't going to say.

"Maybe a hypo of sedative'll take care of things."

_You'll be a doctor. You have a talent for causing things pain!_ Jim's ears sang.

McCoy's eyes widened. "Jim?" he said, but could manage no more.

"I'm going crazy, right? It's some weird space virus," Jim whined.

"Well..." McCoy looked skeptical.

"I think I need to get laid."

Finally, Jim's ears thought. Progress!

A four-armed courtesan on Bajir Ontara was _not_ what Jim's ears had in mind, however. Particularly not when said courtesan turned out to have a side job as a contract killer for Orion smugglers. Jim had to beam up naked, bruised, and bloody from his planetside hotel room.

Spock waited in sickbay with a disapproving expression on his expressionless face. Jim's ears totally sympathized.

_You're the ones that we want_, they sang softly, hoping Spock's ears would understand that they'd had nothing to do with the unfortunate incident.

Spock's ears remained impassive, as did Spock. "Captain, it falls to me to inform you that your behavior does not befit a Starfleet Captain."

"Spock! I was on shore leave!" Jim sat up in bed, wincing as the I.V. pulled at his arm.

"Nevertheless." Spock raised a single eyebrow.

"I have needs, you know," Jim complained. "Needs that aren't being met on this ship."

Word, Jim's ears thought, and chimed in. _You're the ones that we want! Ooh, ooh, ooh! The ones we neeeeed. Oh, yes, indeed._

Spock's ears turned a vivid shade of green. To his credit, though, Spock looked as unperturbed as ever. "Perhaps you should learn to exert more self control."

Spock's ears sang quietly, in a cool voice, _You better shape up, 'cause we need a man, and our heart is set on you..._

Spock left sickbay without another word.

Jim flopped back onto the biobed. "Fuck," he said. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"I've been wondering that for years," McCoy muttered from the other side of the room.

The next few days were uncharacteristic ones for the Captain. He spent a lot of time in the gym, and sat alone at meals, staring at his vegetables and broiled chicken. At night, he lay in his bed reading. All in all, he was remarkably well-behaved. His ears didn't know what to think. They had no access to his thoughts, and could not venture a guess as to what was on Jim's mind. Attuned to his moods, however, they, too, were silent.

It was even more puzzling when Jim stood outside Spock's quarters again one evening, hand raised to press the call button. He did not press the button. He lowered his hand. Then raised it again. Then paced. Then he pressed the button, turning his back to the door right after doing so, and rubbing his face distractedly.

"Captain?" Spock's dulcet voice came from the open door causing Jim's ears to shiver.

Jim turned around. "Spock. Can I come in?"

Spock stepped back, admitting Jim silently. Without being asked, Jim sat in one of the chairs at the small desk.

"Sometimes, when I can't have what I want, I act like a real dick, and I'm sorry," Jim blurted.

Spock remained standing, giving the Captain his undivided attention.

"Ugh," Jim mumbled. "I don't know."

Jim's ears thought they understood what he was trying to say. If he couldn't spit it out, then they would have to. So softly they almost couldn't hear themselves, they began to sing: _We can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell us, Vulcan, now when did you last let your heart decide..._

Spock gazed at Jim. His ears stood at attention, their points slightly green. Jim seemed aware for the first time that the strange singing he was hearing could also be heard by Spock.

"Spock, do you hear something?"

"I believe it is your ears," Spock said, coming closer.

Spock's blushing ears made a sound like a breath being let out.

Jim's ears became excited, almost unable to continue their singing. _We can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder, over, sideways, and under on a magic carpet ride._

_A whole new world..._ Spock's ears began tremulously, their voices quavering with uncharacteristic emotion.

Jim stood up. "Hey," he said.

One of Spock's ears was so close! Jim's ears strained to reach. They had peach fuzz on them! Vulcan peach fuzz! _A dazzling place we never knew..._ they continued, stretching toward the Vulcan as much as they could.

Jim leaned forward. His lips met Spock's briefly. Then he shifted, moving his head to the side, bringing his left ear to within centimeters of Spock's.

It was heaven, that first contact. Spock's ear was cool but pliant and soft, covered in delicate, nearly invisible hairs.

"I believe our ears desire aural congress," Spock rumbled.

"Yeah," Jim answered breathily. "I can't say I really want to prevent them."

"Indeed, that would be unwise."

The rubbing continued, ear against ear. Jim's left ear shivered in delight. Spock's voice! His architectural ear! So sensitive! So beautiful!

"Perhaps..." Spock said.

"The other side," Jim said, finishing the sentence, stepping back, and then putting his right ear next to Spock's right ear.

"I find this quite stimulating," Spock said.

"Mm," Jim answered, and the rubbing continued.

Jim's ears sighed, content. Life on Jim Kirk's head could be difficult, but it had its rewards.


End file.
